Archive for April, 2010

It is very exciting to have all this be.

April 25, 2010

No matter how complicated anything is, if it is not mixed up with remembering there is no confusion, but and that is the trouble with a great many so called intelligent people they mix up remembering with talking and listening, and as a result they have theories about anything but as remembering is repetition and confusion, and being existing that is listening and talking is action and not repetition intelligent people although they talk as if they knew something are really confusing, because they are so to speak keeping two times going at once, the repetition time of remembering and the actual time of talking but, as they are rarely talking and listening, that is the talking being listening and the listening being talking, although they are clearly saying something they are not clearly creating something, because they are because they always are remembering, they are not at the same time talking and listening.  Do you understand.  Do any or all of you understand. Anyway that is the way it is. And you hear it even if you do not say it in the way I say it as I hear it and say it.

I say I never repeat while I am writing because while I am writing I am most completely, and that is if you like being a genius, I am most entirely and completely listening and talking, the two in one and the one in two and that is having completely its own time and it has in it no element of remembering.  Therefore there is in it no element of confusion, therefore there is in it no element of repetition. Do you do you do you really understand.

And does it make any difference to you if you do understand.  It makes an awful lot of difference to me. It is very exciting to have all this be.



by Gertrude Stein

pp 179-181

in which he begins to refuse to be Beaten Down By His Own Oppressions

April 23, 2010

Kenneth felt angry about the idea that he was now supposed to be frightened of what the bosses and the various cops were doing, that he was supposed to be working faster, that he was wasting his time thinking about any of this nonsensical swarm of bogus news and fake reportage.  He knew that he would have to be caught doing something really quite seriously illegal before the authorities would trouble themselves about him; they had too many other people to watch.  Nevertheless, here was this continuous threat of being fired for breaking some minor regulation.  It would take a great deal of time and effort and worry if he had at this point in his life, to go out looking for another job.  He had scarcely any savings, he had absolutely committed himself to paying his legal bill.  It disgusted him to think that he was, after all, afraid of being caught misbehaving, afraid of losing his temper if any of the bosses were to question or reprove him.  All these fantasies and interior rages tired him. He felt trapped.  He wanted to quit the office, never again to have anything to do with this world they claimed was real and serious, a world which (to his way of thinking) barely existed, which, if he tried to examine it calmly or seriously, faded away.  The swarms of authorities, the childish rules, the tensions created by the strict time scheduling, hurry and noise and music, the fakes of terror and discipline and guilt and punishment were a continuous bad movie written by a third-rate disciple of Franz Kafka.  But the moment Ken’s attention was diverted by a trip to the toilet or a break for lunch, it would lose its hold over his imagination.